Smells Like Teen Spirit
by xx-Twisted Fantasy-xx
Summary: One night. One very big mistake. It's a shame hate is the start of their love story, because blood runs thicker than water. AH.
1. Prologue: Kids in Love

**Disclaimer: The Vampire Diaries isn't my property... neither is the title (RIP Kurt Cobain) or the lyrics.**

* * *

_I'm probably going to kick myself for starting a new story, much less one that isn't on my Upcoming Stories list, but insomnia and inspiration are sisters... brothers? Anyhow, here's my new Bamon story that may or may not be slightly based off of that awful show I hate. I haven't decided yet._

* * *

**~Prologue~**

* * *

_And we were just kids in love  
The summer was full of mistakes we wouldn't learn from  
The first kiss stole the breath from my lips  
Why did the last one tear us apart?_

_~Mayday Parade, Kids In Love~_

* * *

I hate the beach.

I don't know why exactly, but I do. Maybe it's the seagulls and their insistent need to put their diseased feet all over _my_ french fries, while the guy next to me has left a cheeseburger unattended on his beach towel. It could be the sand, though, because I'm still shaking it out of my bags a week after we leave. But in all honesty, it's probably having to spend two weeks straight with my parents. I mean, they can't keep their hands out of each other's pants long enough to choose a restaurant to eat at.

I blame my father's new Viagra prescription.

Elena tells me that it could be worse, that they could be fighting constantly like her parents, but I'm fairly certain that hearing your mom and dad fuck one another on a daily basis is a leading cause of childhood complexes.

Not that I'd ever tell her that, but I can't help but think it from time to time. Especially since she isn't here like she usually is. Apparently, spending the week in Aspen with Caroline is a better alternative than our annual trip to Virginia Beach. Not that I'm bitter about it or anything...

"Bonnie, go unlock the door." My dad tosses the keys to me.

I get out of the car and stomp up the walkway leading to the porch. I'll be damned if I have to act happy about giving them a minute to make-out in the privacy of our van.

And to think, I actually liked this place when I was younger. I remember how I used to ask Dad to paint my room the exact same shade of red as the front door, how I tried to smuggle the various knickknacks that sit atop the mantel home, how I liked to take naps in the hammock out back—even though _I hated naps, Mommy, because they were for babies. _

Shit just went downhill from there.

When Elena (the traitor) finally started to vacation with us everything began to look up. She still doesn't mind the cheesy show tunes Mom sings on the drive up here or how Dad seems to burn dinner every time he fires up the grill. But then again, she _is_ in Colorado right now.

Once the door is open, I flip the light switch on, illuminating the foyer.

I contemplate running upstairs and locking myself in my bedroom for the duration of our stay, but that idea is killed the second my parents decide to join me.

"Go put your swim suit on, dear. We're going to spend the entire day at the beach!"

I look at the clock on the wall. "It's only ten-thirty..."

"We can tell time, kiddo." Dad says, handing me my suitcase.

_Not if you're sucking Mom's face,_ I think to myself.

* * *

I throw my beach towel on the sand. The rest of my crap soon follows.

There isn't much to do at the beach and I can't figure out why my parents insist on spending every waking second here... or why the drag me along with them, for that matter. They're clearly better off by themselves. I shake my head as I watch my mother wrap her arms around her husband's neck, planting a kiss squarely on his lips. Dad responds enthusiastically, hands moving to a place where I can't see them.

Okay... _gross._

I take a book from my bag and start to read it. Anything to keep my mind off of that disgusting display of affection.

"Hi Bonnie!" a familiar voice says.

_What the hell is Stefan doing here?_

I lift my eyes from the page to see my best friend's boyfriend standing in front of me in nothing but a very flattering swim suit.

"Hey Stef," I greet, giving him a nod. "What's up?"

"Nothing really, just trying to keep Damon entertained." he looks over his shoulder, sighing.

I crack a smile at that one. "Really? I figured he was an expert at entertaining himself by now."

"You'd think... but apparently breaking up with Rose has given him _too _much alone time."

"Oh, and here I thought someone so _'amazingly sexy' _could never be bored with himself."

"So Bennett, you finally admit that you find me sexy."

_Speak of the Devil..._

I glare at the smug expression on Damon's face. "Get real, Salvatore. Hell hasn't frozen over yet."

I consider throwing my book at his face, but chances are he'll turn around and throw it in the ocean and I really don't feel like wasting fifteen dollars on him.

"Good. I wouldn't want you to catch cold sweetheart."

"Fuck off."

I want to wipe that damn smirk right off of his pretty face. "Will do."

* * *

_Tuesday_

* * *

I briefly consider bolting in the opposite direction when I see Damon lounging in a hideous beach chair not two centimeters from where I was stationed yesterday.

But why _should _I?

He's only there to get on my nerves. Damon Salvatore is well-known for knowing exactly what buttons to press—good or bad. That's how he gets all of his girlfriends... he tells them what they want to hear and they give him what he wants. It's almost the same with me, I suppose, but it's an inverse equation. He gives me that shit-eating grin, says something insulting, and he gets a reaction (usually negative) from me.

But not today.

I won't let him get the best of me.

Trudging over to him, I go about my routine as per usual, pretending that he isn't even there. Retrieve my book, open it to a random page, and sit there in complete silence.

"Hello Bonnie," cue winning smile and false interest. "How are you?"

_Keep reading, don't even glance at him._

"I'm great, thanks for asking. I met a very nice girl named Sage last night... oh, look! There's your parents!" Damon gestures to my mother and father, inviting them to come over.

"You didn't tell us the Stefan and Damon would be here!" Mom exclaims, as if she's beyond ecstatic that I've found someone else to spend my time with. How quickly she forgets that Damon "accidentally" pushed me from the Jungle Gym in kindergarten.

I shrug. "I didn't know either, Mom. Trust me." If I did, I'd still be in Mystic Falls right now. There's no way I'd voluntarily be in the same place as this asshole. There isn't enough money in the world, no reward large enough to compensate a second of the vacation I've wasted associating with him.

"Well, I'll let you two catch up then..." she trails off, giving Dad The Look.

_Just shoot me now..._

Damon watches them as they walk away, an amused expression on his face. "It looks like they're having a nice time."

"Don't remind me," I grumble.

"It's good that old people can still have an active sex life," he continues, his voice growing more and more condescending with each word. "I bet they do it every night."

"Can you_ please _shut the fuck up?" I slam the book shut, seething.

"Sure, if you take away the 'shut' and 'the' away and replace the 'up' with a 'me.'"

"I'd rather staple my eyelids shut."

Another shit-eating grin. "Oh, so you're into the kinky shit?"

"At least my dad can stay committed. What's your dad on now? Wife number six?" I'm almost surprised at the malice in my voice, but Damon has always brought the worst out in me.

I turn to face him, expecting to find anger in his blue eyes, but he actually looks kind of _sad._So sad in fact, that part of me regrets saying that—even though the bastard deserved it.

"Girlfriend number twenty, I think. They usually leave him when he's bought them a new car or something. This one's volleying for a new golf cart to put in her driveway._ 'It'll look so cute once we buy that new house!' _It's the really expensive one on Crystal Cove."

"Wait... the huge three-story one that you drive past on your way to the boardwalk?"

He nods.

"So you're here because your dad's gold-digger wants a new beach-front property?" I'm disgusted by that, not even Mr. Salvatore deserves to be treated like a doormat. It doesn't sit well with my moral fiber.

"Pretty much."

"That sucks." I say and he nods in agreement.

"Tell me about it."

* * *

_Saturday_

* * *

_It won't be _so_ bad... _I tell myself, running the brush through my hair one last time. _It might even be fun._

If someone had told me that I'd be going to a party with Damon Salvatore a few days ago; I would have accused them of being on drugs... but now...

Well, now I _am_ going out with him, more out of boredom than anything else, but I guess the _why_ doesn't matter. At least I'm getting out of the house and away from the love birds...

I don't know what Damon has planned for tonight, but it's sure to be more fun than watching _Twilight _for the umpteenth time—alone.

When the car finally comes to a stop we are sitting in the parking lot designated for the boardwalk.

"Are you going to win me a teddy bear?" I ask sarcastically.

"Probably not," he answers, smug. "Not if you're going to be a kill joy."

"I'm not a kill joy!" I protest, hitting him in the arm.

_"Please, _your nickname is Buzz Kill Bennett."

I roll my eyes. "No it's not!"

"Fine," he says, typical Damon-smile in place. "Prove me wrong, then."

Somehow, that translated into us driving back to his father's girlfriend's house and raiding her liquor cabinet.

I'm not sure how many shots I drank or when I planned on stopping—if I planned on stopping—only that Damon congratulated me on disapproving his theory with a kiss that tasted like vodka.

I respond in a very undignified manner, wrapping my arms around his neck and crawling into his lap.

At some point, I feel his hand drifting into what is supposed to be unauthorized territory, but I don't tell him to stop. Not then and not when he unbuttons my shorts and rids me of my shirt. To be fair, I return the favor and by the time all of our clothes are lying in a pile on the floor, we are both having too much fun to think about the consequences of our actions.

So we don't stop and I don't think about regret once over the span of the night.

* * *

_A week later..._

* * *

I'm putting the last of our suitcases in the trunk when I throw one final glance at Damon's house. Some part of me still expects him to come over to apologize. Say sorry for not telling me about his new girlfriend or the fact that I ran into them on the boardwalk just two days after we had sex or that she was shoving her tongue down his throat.

Not that I'm shocked, I should have known better.

Some things never change.

* * *

_So... what did you guys think? The first official chapter should be up soon. Part of me thinks this is a little OOC so please leave me some feedback._

_Thanks for reading!_


	2. Glass Heart

**Disclaimer: I do not own TVD or the lyrics.**

* * *

_Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who reviewed/alerted/put this story on their favorites list. I appreciate every bit of advice I was given and I hope you guys like this chapter just as much as you did the prologue. For clarification, it is an AH story. Bonnie, Elena, and Damon are eighteen and Stefan—being the younger brother—is seventeen._

_Now onto the first OFFICAL chapter._

* * *

**~Chapter One~**

* * *

_Why are you so alarmed  
You got me tied to a time bomb  
Alarm, alarm, alarm  
I don't wanna wake up  
I just wanna stay home_

_~Neon Trees, Alarm~_

* * *

I keep my eyes closed, hoping that everything will fade into the background, hoping that maybe—just maybe—Elena will give up and stop knocking on the door.

But, of course, she doesn't. "Bonnie, come on! We have to get to school! Do you really want to miss the first day of senior year?"

_Yeah._

"Go away," I mumble, throwing the covers over my head.

I don't know why she takes that as an invitation to come in, but I don't know if I really care either. She can try all she wants, she's not going to get me to come with her. I'd rather yank my teeth from my skull than have to see that bastard again—not to mention that bitch who is always wrapped around him like a snake. It just reminds me of how I should have known better.

"Think of all the things you'll miss: Prom, Homecoming, graduation..." her voice trails off as she lets all of this sink in.

"You can send me a picture of Caroline in her crown."

"You have to get out of bed," she says, and her voice is laced with concern. "You haven't done anything since you got back from the beach."

Even the mention of those two weeks threatens to bring back memories of Damon. I haven't told Elena anything about it. I've seen the glances she gives the older Salvatore brother when Stefan isn't around. She won't be happy if she finds out that I fucked him—especially since she passed up the chance to be there to go skiing.

"I brought you doughnuts," she says in a sing-song voice.

My stomach growls and I reluctantly shove my hand in Elena's face.

"Nice try." Instead of giving me my breakfast like she should have, Elena yanks my comforter off my head.

I squint, my eyes struggling to adjust to the light. And then I blame Mother Nature for making the sun shine so brightly and my mom, who let me paint my walls light green, which doesn't help matters. It feels like I've stepped under a massive spotlight or something.

"Can I have my doughnut now?" I ask, covering my face with one hand and holding the other out expectantly.

She tosses me the bag and it lands on my stomach. "Here. Caroline said she'd meet us by the stairs at seven, so we need to hurry up. You know how she gets when we're late."

"Unfortunately." I inspect the pastry carefully before taking a bite, it tastes kind of stale, but I'm too hungry to be bothered by it. And anyway, I love chocolate... even if the icing is weird.

"Have you even _thought _about what you're going to wear?" she asks, and while she tries to imitate Caroline, she fails miserably. I can hear the worry in her voice just like I did earlier when she brought up my lack of enthusiasm for all things fun.

"No, Care. I haven't." I roll my eyes and watch her root through my entire closet. I almost feel like objecting, but I don't see the point in it. If—by some huge miracle—I get her to leave, she will probably send my mother in here. I shudder at the thought of my mom picking my clothes out. At how she will attempt to talk to me about my bitter mood.

_This isn't like you. What happened? Ever since we came home you've been miserable, did something bad happen at the beach?_

"I'm sorry," she hands me the new dress I bought last week when Caroline dragged me to the mall against my will. I haven't even removed the tags yet. "I mean, look at you."

I turn to the mirror. My reflection looks back at me, green eyes sad—almost cold. I haven't really given any serious consideration to my appearance in a few weeks and it shows. My hair is a mess, I'm frowning, and the bags under my eyes can't be from a lack of sleep... I've been so tired that's all I've done lately.

"Your organizational skills are slipping, Bon. You haven't unpacked all of your stuff yet!" Elena gestures to the bag lying next to a pile of towels on the floor. "Your room is a mess..."

And suddenly, I'm not pissed off at her anymore. I can feel the annoyance fading away, leaving me wondering why I was so upset in the first place. Can I really blame her? Out of the three of us, I'm the one who always has a plan, I'm the one who would pull Care out of bed after a long night of partying, hell, I _did _get Elena to leave her room when she broke up with Matt. And now I'm acting like an asshole.

All because Damon Salvatore thought of me as nothing more than a one-night stand.

And I almost tell her.

I open my mouth to explain why I've been been acting like someone else, but the words get caught in my throat.

_Bad idea, _I think, _very bad idea. _

"I'm sorry," I say, casting a glance at my dresser. "I'm just sad. You know... we're finally going to graduate high school... it's scary."

She sits on the edge of my bed, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "It's going to be fine... I'm scared, too. But we'll get through it together—I promise."

I just hope she'll feel the same when she finds out the truth.

* * *

Mystic Falls high school hasn't changed one bit in the three months we've been away from it. The entrance is swarming with students (just as it was when we were leaving in June) and teachers trying to get through the front doors. Sadly, the parking lot is in the same chaotic state, despite the fact that most of us live within walking distance. The lawn looks nice, though, it doesn't seem the least bit fried—and we didn't even get that much rain this summer. And the WELCOME BACK STUDENTS sign has recovered from last year's senior prank.

I spot Caroline the second she emerges from the crowd.

She approaches us, coffee cup in hand, a cheery expression on her face. "Finally! It feels like we haven't seen each other in for_ever!"_

"Try two days," I say with a laugh, giving my friend a hug.

"Yeah, I was just at your house yesterday." says Elena.

"Whatever," Caroline says dismissively. "Did you see Damon's new girlfriend?"

I don't miss the apologetic look she gives Elena, who is trying desperately to not frown or furrow her eyebrows in distaste—her usual response to anything involving Damon's shitty behavior. It's almost like she's surprised to find out he's gotten himself yet another slut to contract an STD from. As if he could go more than a week without having sex with someone. As if he's _better _than that.

As expected, Care turns to me for a more critical opinion on the matter.

"What else is new? He broke up with Rose, we all knew it was a matter of time before he found somebody else." I shrug, pretending that this doesn't bother me in the least.

"True. But really? Rebekah?"

I nod. Here comes another famous Forbes Rant.

"Out of all the bitches he slept with this summer he chose to keep _her?"_

Okay... that one hurt.

It shouldn't, though. Caroline doesn't know that I'm technically "one of those bitches," but I still fall into that category, whether I want to or not. I attempt to remain rational about her spiel, but it is totally impossible. Even thought she isn't talking about me she is still talking about me.

And it sucks.

I want to tell her to shut up, I want to tell the two people I'm closest to that Damon hurt me badly, I want to let all of this out... only Care will never stop talking and Elena doesn't want her to. Not today, not when she'll be just as distraught over this not-so-new development as I am.

"And I mean... really? Everybody knows she's a whore. She slept with half of the—"

"Hold on," Elena tells her (thank God!) and she pulls her phone from her bag. "Stefan just sent me a text."

We all stand there in silence, waiting for an explanation as to why Elena's world has stopped to respond to her one-and-only yet again. Normally, I'd share a fraction of Caroline's impatience with her, but Stefan has just saved me some emotional distress. Anything to stop discussing everyone's favorite topic of interest.

"Well?"

"He's meeting us by Mr. Saltzman's class. Rebekah and Damon are with him."

Without another word on the subject, Caroline loops her arm under Elena's, motioning for me to do the same. We are like a chain, steel, unbreakable. It sort of comforting in a way that Elena helping me get ready for school wasn't. This tells me that I'm stable, reminds me that I'm essential for keeping something together. I'm a vital part of something, but I'm also strong enough to stand on my own. Just like when my Grams died. Elena's parents started to fight around the same time and I put aside my own problems to help Elena deal with words like _divorce _and _custody _being thrown around within the walls of her house.

I can just as easily do it again.

_I hope._

Care winks at Matt Donovan as we ascend the steps and waves at Tyler Lockwood when he stops to hold the door open for us. I can see why she wore that low-cut, blue shirt now, to ensure that she has their affections. She still likes them both and she wants her little love triangle to continue. I smile a little bit at that; same old Caroline Forbes.

We pass several posters that have been glittered to death by the office staff. They all advertise things like Homecoming and Prom, making me wonder if the rumors about Mrs. Hill really are true. I can see the old woman living in this place, forever making copies and pinning fliers to the walls. Of course, the idea that she's a gremlin is totally—

"Caroline. Elena. _Bonnie." _There goes the peace!

His voice sparks an immediate fire in my stomach. I can feel the hatred overwhelming everything else, even the repulsion I have for seeing Rebekah and that snotty little smirk of hers. I meet his gaze with a glare, frowning as I realize that he's amused by this. He likes seeing Elena give him fleeting looks of disappointment and he _really_ enjoys pissing me off, knowing that we got close during the summer and that it must have meant something to me.

When it's absolutely nothing to him.

"Hey Damon," Elena says blandly, curling her arm around Stefan's waist. "Rebekah."

The blonde girl is dressed in the sluttiest outfit I've ever seen—and this includes all of the skimpy clothes Care owned when we were fourteen. Disgustingly short, denim skirt and a tank top so red that if she were to fatally hurt herself no one would be able to see the blood.

"Hello Elena," Rebekah sounds as if she thinks we are all a waste of her time.

Caroline folds her arms across her chest, skipping the introductions completely. We all know where we stand. "What class do you have first?"

"Elena and I have English," Stefan answers.

"Spanish," says Caroline.

"History." Rebekah looks at her nails, bored.

I remember getting my schedule from my mailbox a week ago, looking it over, and crumpling it up. It wasn't important then, though I'm regretting not fishing it out of my trashcan this morning.

"Anatomy—I think."

A wicked smile spreads across Damon's face. "What a coincidence, I have Anatomy, too."

It feels like time has stopped. It takes me all of one second to figure out that we will all be traveling in different sections. All Rebekah has to do is walk into her class, but Caroline has to go down the opposite hallway and Stefan and Elena have to go upstairs—meaning I will be all alone with Damon.

Hell has finally frozen over.

* * *

When the bell rings, Damon lets go of his girlfriend's hand and extends his arm toward me.

"Don't even _think _about touching me, Salvatore." I regret saying that the second those words leave my mouth. I can just hear his response.

_Funny, you sure didn't mind me touching you at the beach._

I cringe, waiting for the guillotine to drop, but it never does. He doesn't even respond, he only drops his hand, smirk still on his face.

"It looks like someone forgot her Midol."

Of _course,_ I thought too soon. Damon always has to have the last word. However, I'm too relieved that he didn't bring The Incident up to come up with a witty retort. Besides, I need to get to class.

I'm the first person to break away from the group, although Damon follows me almost immediately, falling into step with me.

"What's your _problem,_ Judgy?"

"I don't have a problem," I say through clenched teeth. "Unless you consider an arrogant bastard with a small dick a problem."

"You, of all people, should know my dick is above-average." The comment isn't one of his best, but his tone is so condescending it makes me want to puke.

I roll my eyes. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"You're just mad because I only fucked you once," he says, "you can't get enough of me."

"There _isn't_ enough of you, didn't you hear what I just said?"

"And quite frankly, you weren't even worth what I gave you."

Something inside of me breaks. It's like my entire body is shattering into thousands upon thousands upon thousands of jagged pieces. I can feel the unwanted tears burning in my eyes, along with the bile climbing up my throat. I suppress the urge to throw up, though, and slap him across the face.

The impact my hand has on his skin is so gratifying. I've put every ounce of pain and aggravation I've felt about him over the years into that smack. It is for taunting me for crying the day Grams passed away, it is for throwing his cigarette butt at me when he passed me in the car, for ruining my birthday party by giving Klaus my underwear, for taking the one thing was supposed to matter.

And it leaves a nice imprint of my palm on his cheek.

'"You're scum," I whisper, leaving him standing angry and alone in the hallway, making a beeline for the bathroom. It's the one place I'll be able to cry without anyone watching.


	3. Collecting the Pieces

**Disclaimer: TVD is not my property nor do the lyrics belong to me.**

* * *

**~Chapter Two~**

* * *

_And as the saying goes, don't let your enemies become friends  
For the record, I never wanted this  
For the record, I wish we never met and opened up this mess  
I couldn't keep up so we cracked down  
And now everything is worse  
I should have known I'm better off on the floor alone  
Sometimes closure doesn't close up anything at all._

_~The Spill Canvas, Don't Let Your Enemies Become Friends~_

* * *

The walls are closing in on me.

I don't like the feeling, but the only other alternative is going to class, and just giving it half a thought makes my breakfast curdle in my stomach.

So the bathroom stall it is.

I bring my knees to my chest and bury my head in my arms.

He isn't worth the tears that are spilling down my cheeks, he isn't worth the phone call home I'll get for missing first period either, but I can't get a grip on myself. It doesn't even make sense; I should be _glad_ he isn't mentioning the fact that we slept together. He's doing me a _favor._ I mean, do I really want everyone to know that I gave my virginity to the biggest asshole in Mystic Falls?

_Hell no._

And this isn't like me at all.

Since when do I burst into tears over something _Damon_ said?

Since when do I burst into tears at _all?_

I really haven't been myself lately. I've always prided myself on having control over my every emotion. I never give in and I'm not reckless. Why did Damon have to be the one I stepped out of my comfort zone with? And why am I curled up in a bathroom stall? _He_ should be the one crying over_ me._I'm not the one who is missing out on anything.

I take a deep breath, wipe the last few teardrops away, and stand up.

I'm done with acting like the victim. No one—especially someone who belongs with the rats—has the right to make me feel like shit. How could I have forgotten that?

Standing in front of the mirror, I brush my hair away from my eyes and try to smile. It looks fake, like I've painted it on my face. My eyes are puffy and red—still broken. Everyone will be able to tell that I've been crying, something I don't want to be pointed out to me. Hopefully, if I act indifferent, nobody will say anything to me.

I look down at my dress and brush myself off.

Caroline will kill me if she thinks I look any less than immaculate.

My legs are shaking a little as I open the door. I look to the left and then the right, hoping that the principal isn't patrolling the hallways. Thank God the coast is clear, I don't think I'd be able to deal with a lecture—I would probably break down again.

The quiet is peaceful, relaxing. I linger by the football display case, examining last year's team photograph, occasionally glancing at my reflection to see if the swelling under my eyes has gone down. Of course it hasn't, but hey, at least our boys were number one in our division...

"Bonnie?"

I jump at the sound of Jeremy's voice.

"... Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I reply, trying to recover from my scare as quickly as possible. "I'm fine... great, actually."

"No you're not," he says, and he sounds just as concerned about me as Elena had been.

I turn around to face him. Hopefully eye contact will clear up any misconceptions about my well-being. "Really, Jer... I'm alright."

"You've been crying." he counters.

"So?" I say, sticking my tongue out like a little kid.

"_So,"_ he says, "you're clearly upset. Tell me what's wrong."

That's what I love about Jeremy, he's always so kind and caring. When we were younger, Elena hated to let him hang out with us but he was always so nice... how could anyone not want to be around him? I played with him most of the time, at least when Care and Elena wanted to play their princess games, where I always ended up being the dragon.

Needless to say, the kid has always been a good friend of mine.

He gives people that warm fuzzy feeling that makes them want to spill their guts.

"It's a really long story," I tell him. "You don't want to know. Trust me on that one."

"I do, though. You need to talk to someone and I'm here for you—unless you already talked to my sister about it." he tacks the last part on as an afterthought.

I sigh. "Fine... but not here, okay? This isn't something I want to bother Elena with. I'll skip practice and stop by you're place after school."

"That bad huh?" Jeremy says jokingly, slinging an arm around my shoulder.

"You have no idea," I say, a failed attempt at sounding lighthearted.

"It'll be okay Bonnie," he wraps an arm arm around my shoulder. Part of me wants to shrug him off, but his sincerity makes me feel a little better.

Even if what he says isn't true.

* * *

I don't go to the office to get a late pass and I don't attend the last fifteen minutes of Anatomy class. I didn't miss anything important. Sure, it's an advanced class, but usually we just play get-to-know-you games on the first day of school—despite the fact that everybody has grown up with each other.

Instead, I go through my next two classes on autopilot, accepting the course syllabus with a nod and a "thank you."

In third period World History, Mr. Saltzman gives me the papers, but unlike Mrs. Ross before him he asks me if I'm okay.

"Huh?" I mumble, ripping my gaze away from the freshly cleaned chalkboard. "Oh... yeah, I'm good."

"Are you sure?"

"Yup." I say, forcing a smile. "Peachy."

He doesn't look like he believes me, but he moves onto the next row anyway.

Lunch should be better, but I wrinkle me nose the second I enter the cafeteria. Whatever the lunch ladies are serving doesn't smell too appetizing—or edible for that matter. School food has never been the best, but I can usually tolerate it for the most part.

I look to Elena, expecting her to have the same reaction, but her eyes are on Damon.

She adjusts the necklace Stefan gave her for her birthday last year. "You'd think he'd learn his lesson after Rose."

"Not really," I don't mean to sound rude, but I'm tired of hearing about Damon and Rebekah. She doesn't even realize she's still complaining about him and I think it's become a reflexive habit of hers.

"He was doing good for awhile..."

"Doesn't mean he's not an ass." I mutter under my breath.

She can't even justify his behavior and she tries desperately to come up with evidence that disproves the fact that he's exactly what I tell her he is. I grin triumphantly when she shakes her head and gives me her typical response.

"You just have to spend some time with him, Bonnie."

Oh, I've spent _plenty_ of time with him and my opinion of the idiot hasn't improved one fucking bit.

But it's not like I can tell her that.

So I reply just as I always do. "Yeah Elena... I'll get around to it." _After I rip my eyelids off and set myself on fire._

Caroline waves to us from the table in the farthest corner of the lunchroom. Today she has chosen to sit with Matt, who has given her his Letterman jacket to wear. It clashes with her outfit, so I'm sort of surprised that she's going through the trouble of pretending to like it.

"Hey guys," says Matt, holding up a bottle of water. "What's up?"

Elena shoots one more troubled look at Damon, who his shoving his tongue down Rebekah's throat for the billionth time today. "Nothing much... same old same old."

I let their voices fade into background noise. I concentrate on eating the food Caroline gave me when I sat down, but I don't think I'll be able to keep it down. As much as I would have liked to have gotten over it completely, my stomach is still in knots from this morning. I break my pizza crust into little pieces, nodding every time I think I hear my name. I wonder if anyone will pick up on my bad mood, but the only indication I've seen so far is Stefan looking—but not saying anything—at me from time to time.

It's just as well, I guess. I don't want to talk anyway.

* * *

I tell Elena and Care that I'm not feeling well (which isn't really a lie) and ask them to tell Coach Miller that I'd be missing cheerleading practice this afternoon.

They agree, tell me to feel better, and head off in the direction of the football field.

Jeremy answers the door the second I ring the doorbell.

"Hey." I give him a tiny wave.

"Come on in," he says.

It feels weird being in Elena's house when she's not around. This place is like a second home to me and several of my pictures hang right next to Elena's, but I've never been over here just for the sole purpose of spending time with her little brother.

I smile at a photo of Jer holding a baseball bat. His front teeth are missing. "I remember that—"

"Tell me what's up."

My eyes dart around the living room. I stare at the fireplace, and then the couch with the horrible fabric, and the television. Spongebob is on and I'd much rather watch that. Jeremy picks up the remote and the screen goes black.

"Tell me what's wrong, Bonnie." he says in an even gentler tone than he used before.

"Um," I toy with the hem of my dress, counting the tiny flowers on it one by one. "At the... uh..."

"Come on," he takes me by the hand and drags me upstairs, down the hallway, past Elena's door, and into his room.

Its changed so much in the eight years since I've last been in here. The blue walls have turned a dark grayish color. He's replaced the Pokemon curtains and sheets with plaid ones. They are definitely more mature, but I can just hear Caroline muttering _It's polyester!_ under her breath. The little figurines still sit on his dresser, though, which I find relaxing. It makes this place seem less... foreign I guess. More like a place I've visited occasionally.

"What's with the scene change?" I ask.

"Privacy." he answers. "You can talk now."

I sigh, reminding myself that I had been looking forward to this little therapy session earlier. "You know how Elena normally goes with me to the beach?"

"Yeah."

"Well she missed her chance to see Stefan and Tweedledum half-naked." he looks confused, so I elaborate. "They were at the beach with their dad and I was bored so... I..." _here comes the difficult part._"Spent a lot... of time... with Damon."

"Is that it?" he asks and he looks mildly amused. "I thought you robbed a bank or something by the way you were acting at school."

"I wish," I grumble, "it sounds better than fucking Damon in a drunken haze."

A look of absolute shock crosses the kid's face. _"What?"_

I collapse on his bed and bury my face in his pillows, a fresh wave of tears spilling down my face. I don't know where they are coming from, but I doubt I'll be able to stop crying any time soon.

"And Damon got a new girlfriend right afterward, right?" he questions, realization dawning on him.

"Uh huh." My voice is muffled by sobs and pillowcases.

He places a hand on my back. "He's not worth your tears."

"Yeah, well apparently neither am I... according to Damon at least."

"He _said _that to you?" his tone is part anger and part shock. He, like Elena, believes that Damon can't be all bad. "Don't listen to him, he's lucky I wasn't around to hear him."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being there for me." I tell him, lifting my head up and rubbing my eyes. "I think Elena would flip if she found out and I really needed to talk to someone."

"No problem," he says with a smile.

I return it, but it still feels wrong. Talking to Jeremy is nice, but it still feels like I'm carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders.

* * *

_So no Bamon this chapter, but the Beremy is crucial for later on in the story. Don't worry, though, they won't be dating like they did in the show. And for those of you who want to hear a chapter from Damon's perspective, you will get that as soon as the central plot point is introduced in chapter four. Thanks for all of the feedback and favorites, and alerts._

_Please tell me what you thought of this chapter!_


	4. Dead Girl Walking

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Enough said.**

* * *

_Thanks again for all of the feedback I've gotten so far—it's beyond helpful! I'm really excited for the next chapter, as that's where things get really interesting. And with that comes more Bonnie/Damon action, and other conflicts as well. And I'm kind of annoyed with this site right now... it's squashing the text together in places it wasn't in the original document and deleting my fancy page breaks! I LOVE my page breaks! Okie dokie, rant over._

_Chapter time!_

* * *

**~Chapter Three~**

* * *

_please before they take me, come and shake me_  
_out of this dream_  
_find myself alone and chilled to the bones_  
_inside of me_  
_fire in the sky_

_~The Pierces, To The Grave~_

* * *

I've never been one to skip school for nothing—that was Caroline's job. If anyone delights in doing something completely unnecessary simply because she wants to, it's my blond-haired best friend.

Elena tends to try to talk her out of it.

I steadily refuse to go along with whatever crazy scheme she's devised.

We each have our own jobs, so it's pretty damn rare for two of us to gang up on the other for feeling as if they should do something, but I guess I woke up in the Twilight Zone this morning or else the universe just decided to fuck me over for the hell of it.

Either option sucked regardless.

"Go back to bed," Elena orders, pointing to my bedroom door.

"No," I answer, and feeling I at least needed a stable excuse, add, "I have a test this morning."

It becomes annoyingly clear that neither Care nor Elena will budge on their decision—as if it's actually their choice in the first place. I'm not allowed to attend class this morning or afternoon or tomorrow. I'm sick, just as I was last week, and I need to get some rest.

"We'll bring home your work for you," Caroline assures me, though the last time she remembered to bring me homework it was three weeks past its due date.

I shake my head. "Nope. I'd rather get it myself."

"Too bad."

Elena places her hands on my shoulders, gently pushing me in the direction of my room.

I dig my heels into the cream-colored carpet, grabbing the railing at the top of the stairs for support. I'm not going anywhere... you know, unless it's out the front door. Caroline rolls her eyes and—despite my iron-grip—yanks my hands from their anchor.

"Stop being a drama queen," she says.

My eyes go wide and my jaw drops. _Caroline Forbes_ just called _me _a drama queen. Maybe I really am in the Twilight Zone, because I'm not blowing things out of proportion at all; it's absolutely ridiculous for them to order me to solitary confinement over feeling a little sick to my stomach. I'm completely fine now. I can hardly believe I threw up anyway.

Plus that test is important. It's the first one of the year and just the thought of having a huge zero right where a good grade should be upsets me to no end.

"Stop using brute force, then." I suggest, struggling as I'm dragged through the door.

Elena surveys the area while Caroline makes sure I'm safely tucked into my bed. I can see her expression go from slightly dismayed to outright distraught. "You told me you'd clean up this up."

Only Elena Gilbert would worry excessively over a messy room, but she is right—to a point, as I really do hate living in this pig sty, but I just don't have the time or the effort to clean it up. I've spent most of my after school hours talking with Jeremy, and I don't have the energy to work on it later on. A very small part of me has gotten used to the piles of wrinkled clothes lying on the floor, to the disarray of papers on my desk, and the jacket I threw over my mirror when I didn't feel like looking at myself anymore.

"Yeah," Caroline chimes in, "you haven't been cheery at practice either. Aimee Bradley was bitching about it yesterday."

"Sorry... I've been studying for that test in Mr. Saltzman's class—the one you guys want me to miss."

"He told us about it two days ago," says Elena, dragging the wastebasket over to me. "You've been Drone Bonnie for three weeks now."

"Drone Bonnie?" I ask skeptically, refusing the bottle of water she tries to hand me. "I'm not a drone."

"But you are." Care insists.

"Really? What makes you think that?"

They exchange a knowing look with each other. It says, _Whoa, she really _doesn't_ get it. _"Um... Bonnie, I haven't seen you smile in, like, weeks."

Elena nods in agreement, a sad look on her face.

"It's get up, go to school, practice—maybe, homework—sometimes, and sleep." Caroline's necklaces clank against one another when she shakes her head. "It's weird."

"You're so upset that you're making yourself sick." Elena says, "You can't go to school. I mean, you were puking your guts out twenty minutes ago, why would you want to?"

"My. Test." I enunciate each word carefully.

"Is. Not. Important."

I glare at Caroline, who smiles back at me as if she's said nothing wrong. This whole ordeal is ten times more upsetting than it should be. Why have they chosen to start worrying _now? _Why not when I had been a blubbering mess, curled up in a bathroom stall? I needed them then; not now. All they are doing is impeding my progress, ruining my schedule.

"It is if you want a 4.0 GPA," I snap irritably.

Elena grabs her jacket from my desk chair. "Which you'll have—_after_you stop stressing yourself out."

"And spending the morning with your head in the toilet," Care adds, sounding a little smug. That comment must have bothered her.

_Good, they both deserve it._

I send a green throw pillow hurdling toward the door, which both girls are quickly walking through. It hits its target the second it clicks shut. A faint giggling noise drifts in between the space in the carpet and wood and I scowl at the wall, specifically the photograph of the three of us eating ice cream in tacky bathing suits by the pool, which is encased in an off-white frame. I think of throwing something at it, like the untouched bottle of water, but decide against it.

Sure, I'm mad at them, but Mom and Dad will flip out if I break something. And I actually kind of like that picture—even if they're annoying sometimes.

I lie on the two pillows I have left on my bed.

When did I get so tired?

I search my brain for an answer, but I can't come up with anything. It just hit me all of a sudden and I can't even fight it. Not even when I hear them leave the house and I have half of a notion to follow, regardless of their orders.

My eyes close and I fall into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

"Bonnie," a distant voice says. "Wake up."

"No," I answer groggily, batting something away from my face.

But whatever—whoever—it is, it's extremely stubborn and refuses to leave me alone. It (or they, I can't even tell at this point) keeps touching my cheek.

"Honey, you've been sleeping all day long, and somebody brought something for you."

It feels like a lost puzzle piece has finally found its place in my head. I realize that my mother is speaking, and that whatever this "somebody" is about to give me is akin to an expensive birthday gift in her mind.

I open my eyes, not knowing what to expect, to find Jeremy stationed a few feet behind the smiling face of Mom. He has his backpack slung on one arm and an enormous stack of textbooks in the other. Jer tries to look enthused, happy, but he obviously knows how I'll react and isn't really putting much effort into his expression.

Care ditched me... again... probably for Tyler, since she hung around Matt the first week of school.

Well, it's not like I didn't see it coming.

Mom wraps her arms around my shoulders, gives me a hug, and kisses my forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," I say truthfully. I'm even hungry... it's like I didn't get sick at all. "I could have gone today."

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't. You would have fallen asleep in class." she tells me, "I'm surprised I was actually able to get you up this time—you wouldn't move earlier."

"Oh."

She gives me one last peck on the cheek before leaving, making me wonder how much I should actually worry about my sleeping habits.

"So..." Jeremy sits on the edge of my bed. "Caroline told me to give you this... Elena would have dropped it off but she's with Stefan at the Grille." he sounds apologetic.

"It's no big deal," I take the books from him with a shrug. "As long as I have it."

"Oh yeah, Elena says not to worry about your test. She said it was easy."

This is nice to hear, especially coming from Jer. I like that he took the initiative to come over, because it's not like my best friends really would. I get it; they're busy, but it's great to have someone to talk to from time to time—a person who listens to me.

"Thank God," I say.

"You wouldn't have a problem with it... Rebekah did, though."

"Oh really," I say, trying to hide the interest in my voice. "How so?"

He chuckles. "She got caught cheating off of Aimee Bradley."

I'm about to laugh, but I can't. The sound stops dead in its tracks when I get to the work from Anatomy class. Mrs. Anderson filled in the space where my name should be as well as the one meant for the date.

_September 14__th__  
__  
_I flip through the rest of the worksheets.

_Bonnie Bennett._

_September 14th 2012._

_B. Bennett._

_9/14/12._

_Bonnie B. _

_Sept. 14th 2012._

Each wording is totally different, but every paper brings me closer and closer to falling over that edge I had climbed up from. I had been totally unaware of the date. How could I have lost track of so much time? Maybe they were right... I have been a drone. Sure, I had a basic idea of today's events, I just hadn't realized what day it actually _was._

And now I'm scared.

"Jeremy," my voice is frantic. "Can you get me the calendar that's on my desk?"

"Sure."

Once it's in my hands, my eyes automatically scan each row of dates meticulously, each red X accounted for until I reach the circle around the third.

It feels like I've swallowed broken glass. I'm suffocating, and yet the pain won't stop. I've been crushed by a ton of bricks and I can't see the light. I use as much logic as I'm capable of, but the numbers don't lie.

I'm in trouble. Possibly the most trouble I've been in since Dad found the pack of cigarettes I took from Care and assumed they belonged to me.

Only this time it's _my _fault.

I can't place the blame on anybody else. I'm smart, I should have known better. I should have stopped... thought... insisted that we think the whole thing over... but I didn't, and now I have to pay the price. I can see my future slipping away slowly... there goes my dreams of college... a good job... probably even graduating high school... no no no... my entire senior year.

All. Gone.

"Jeremy," I say, and the desperation in my voice is apparent. "What am I going to do?"

He looks confused. "About what?"

_"This!"_

I shove the calendar in his face. He reads it over, brows furrowing as he attempts to grasp the problem.

Taking it back, I frown, staring at the picture that accompanies the month of September. A girl and a guy sit in an open field, wildflowers blooming. They have their whole lives ahead of them and nothing will stand in their way.

"I'm... I missed my period." I finally choke out, glaring at the calendar. That's all I say, but the words I didn't still hang in the air.

_And my life is over._

* * *

_So liltle, you were right... good prediction! I wanted to try to be subtle about it, but I didn't want it to come out of left field either. As promised, Damon will have a point of view the next chapter and I'm really looking forward to writing about it._

_Thanks for reading—and don't forget to review!_


	5. Goody Two Shoes

**Disclaimer: TVD is not mine. The lyrics are not either.**

* * *

**~Chapter Four~**

* * *

_They're all asleep, they'll never know  
We'll escape through your window  
And they're onto us  
But this time is ours  
There are reasons for what I did  
It wasn't some vile attempt or accomplishment  
It was innocent you know_

_~Matchbook Romance, Goody, Like Two Shoes~_

* * *

"Remember," his father says, "Don't let them tell you that the copay is anything over twenty dollars. We don't want a repeat of the last time."

The last time really wasn't anything too monumental—at least it wouldn't have been if his dad had given him the thirty dollars Damon needed to pick up the prescription. But, just as he always does, he refused to accept his mistake. The copay _had _been thirty, and even though that phone call to the insurance company proved as much Giuseppe still thinks that he had been right.

Of course his bitching might have something to do with Corinne (or was it Colleen... Cora?) dumping him and keeping the expensive car for herself. Not that the Corinne/Colleen/Cora whore even cared for the old man in the first place, but Damon had grown tired of seeing his father date a bunch of idiots only to be left heartbroken when they left him for some younger guy with more hair on his head than his back. Actually... tired isn't even the right word, entertaining is better. Yes, Damon loves train wrecks more than anything else, especially when the crash happened to someone who deserved it.

He takes the money from his dad's hand. "Why don't you make Steffy your errand boy? At least he'll do whatever the hell you say."

Giuseppe gives his son the sternest look he can muster. "Well, I''m sure Stefan would be able to do something as simple as pick up my medicine and not get accused of theft."

"Whatever."

Damon slams the door shut with more force than necessary. He hopes that his dad will get what's coming to him.

The Salvatore family is by far one of the most influential families in the hell hole that's named Mystic Falls. Damon can trace his bloodlines back to the time when the place was founded, something he knows only because Malibu Barbie chatters about it non-fuckng-stop. The Forbes' and Gilbert's also played a hand in whatever long and boring process was needed to make Mystic Falls a real town, though they don't flaunt their money like his dad does.

Damon and Stefan live in the gaudiest house on the block—hell, probably in all of Virginia. His dad has an unhealthy obsession with creepy (yet still somehow worth a shit-load of cash) lawn ornaments. You know, the kind that screams: "Hey, I've got money, come sleep with me and bleed me dry!"

Stefan is always embarrassed to invite people over—even Elena, who has been over to their house more times than Damon can count.

He doesn't see why his pansy of a little brother doesn't use the money to his advantage, so long as neither son gets written out of the will Damon sees no problem with having a little fun.

The drug store used to be a small family-owned business, but Walgreen's decided to offer a deal that the Morris' couldn't refuse, though the old sign still hangs over the front door and the only way to tell that it's a franchise is by the little money-back guarantee posted in the window.

It's inconsistent—like his dad's moods—and it bugs him way too fucking much.

Damon never goes straight to the pharmacy. He wants to spend as much time away from home as humanly possible. The hot girls who look at boxes of hair dye in aisle two are just an added bonus. Not that Rebekah would be too happy that Damon is appreciating people who weren't her; she's very self-centered and whiny that way—just another reason he prefers Elena over everyone else.

He takes a shortcut through the family-planning aisle and stops dead in his tracks when he sees a familiar face surveying the shelf where the pregnancy tests sit.

_Judgy. _

He can't see her entire face, but from what he _does_see he can tell that she's scared out of her mind... it's a rattling sight. Bonnie—in the sixteen years he has known her—isn't ever frightened. Out of the three girls, she is the most headstrong and responsible. If anything, he expected to see Caroline here, as she's the one more prone to making herself look like an idiot.

But Bonnie... never.

Not that he cares for any other reason than the fact that it implicates him as well.

Any enjoyment he had for that night flies out the window when he realizes that the kid—if she is pregnant—is his.

Bonnie isn't a whore... she didn't have sex with anyone before Damon and her increased level of bitchiness ensures that she hasn't done it since.

The store suddenly feels very crowded, like a thousand people are chattering and laughing. Filling up the space, making it hard to move. Damon can't think for shit, he doesn't want to either, because then he's sure he'll end up looking as scared and pathetic as Bennett.

She turns around, catches sight of him, and shoves the box behind her back. "What the hell do you want _now?"_

"Well, Stefan's on his period so I'm getting him tampons." his eyes pass over boxes and boxes of different sized condoms, fertility tests, ovulation kits... no tampons in sight.

"Aisle four," Bonnie says bluntly, green eyes darkening. "Get yourself a box too, you've been bitchy for awhile now."

_"Me? _I'm not the one who walks around with a pole up my ass!"

_"I'm so sorry. _Horrible sex puts me in a bad mood." The jab is halfhearted though, and even a blind person could see that she's worried about other things.

Damon glares at her. "You—"

Whatever smart ass remark Damon was planning on making is lost in translation when Gilbert Number Two walks up and puts a supportive arm around Bonnie's shoulder. He reminds Damon of a Golden Retriever a little bit. Loyal, following his owner around with his tongue hanging from his mouth. It's sort of cute, even though it makes him want to puke.

Jeremy returns the glare Damon is giving Bonnie in full.

Oh great, he knows about it.

He wonders if Elena knows, too, but he dismisses the idea quickly. If she did, she would have given him one of those lectures that are supposed to inspire him "to be the better man" when in reality, she just sounds like one of the teachers in a Peanuts cartoon.

Jer guides Bonnie to the check out line, and Damon is once again left alone, conflicting emotions roiling in his stomach.

* * *

I pace back and forth, not wanting to take the bag from Jeremy but knowing I need to be a hundred percent sure before I choose a course of action.

"Come on, Bonnie. Just get this over with." he gives me an encouraging look. "I'll be there for you no matter what the results are."

I meet his eyes and smile. "Thank you. You have know idea how much this means to me."

"Anything you need." he tells me, holding out the brown paper bag. "I'll be right here."

I nod, sigh, and take my purchase into the bathroom.

My mother has always been big on themes. Whenever she feels like changing any room in the house, she selects the most outrageous ideas to build upon. One day, she saw this small treasure chest at the furniture store and decided to make a sunken ship the design scheme for the upstairs bathroom. The shower curtain is covered in fish and the walls are painted a deep blue.

I've always hated the design, but now it seems totally appropriate.

A shipwreck.

The entire remainder of my life may very well rest on these little wands—and it will most likely be a negative (or in this case, positive) result.

I take all three tests out of the bag. Each one cost me about fifteen dollars—which pretty much left me with about five bucks in my wallet. I shudder to think about how much more money I'll have to spend if all three of these things turn out to be positive.

One by one, I tear each package open and follow the directions, acting on each step carefully.

The instructions tell me to wait five minutes for each of them, so I ask Jeremy to set the timer for ten and meet me in my room.

"How are you doing?" he whispers, shutting my door behind him.

"Not good."

I lean back on my bed and put my pillow over my face. I hope that, if I lie here long enough, I'll disappear and not have to worry about anything. Not the minutes on the clock downstairs, the reactions of everyone I hold near and dear, what Damon will do...

"You'll be okay," he assures me for what seems like the billionth time today. "You always pull through. You don't let your problems control your life."

I don't tell him that I don't have any other choice than to let this control me.

Instead, I peek at him. "I hope you're right."

"I am." he says confidently.

My thanks is interrupted by my phone buzzing loudly, almost falling off my nightstand and onto the floor.

Elena.

I don't want to answer. I just want to tell her about all the crap I'm going through now, but it would kill her, so I can't. Annoying or not, I still love her and this new development will devastate her more than the last one. Thankfully, the call goes to my voicemail.

… And then it rings again.

I sigh and reach for my cell, wondering what all of this is about. She usually only calls once, and then she'll leave well enough alone. Something about not wanting to be irritating.

"Hello?"

"Bonnie?" she sounds frantic... well, as frantic as Elena Gilbert can be. "I'm coming over... it was awful. I walked into Damon's room and he—"

Her next words are overshadowed by the oven timer going off. Each little beep echoes in my ears over and over again, piercing and shrill. I flinch. It feels as if I've been punched in the gut multiple times. I spring up, nearly dropping the phone. I manage to catch it and pass it off to Jeremy. I also make a few hand gestures that inform him to keep his sister talking.

"Elena? Yeah, it's me..."

It feels like I'm walking to my death as I proceed to go into the bathroom and peer over the sink, where three pregnancy tests lie.

_Positive._

_Pregnant._

I pick up each stick and stare at it in complete shock.

This can't be happening. It doesn't add up... I only had sex once! One time! I shouldn't be pregnant, I think before I act, I don't make giant mistakes like this... I stopped thinking for one second and the worst possible thing occurs.

I'm having a baby—_Damon Salvatore's _baby.

And I'm now officially scared.

I press my hand to my stomach... oh God... what the hell am I going to do? I can hear Jeremy talking to Elena, which is a welcome distraction.

"No... no, really. This isn't a good time... no, Elena don't come in."

But it's a little too late for him to be saying that. I can already hear the familiar sound of her sneakers pounding on the stairs, her voice reverberating through the phone and the hallway.

She is frustrated now. "Where's Bonnie?"

"Uh..."

The door swings open and Elena takes in the scene immediately. Her jaw drops, and tears spring in her brown eyes. Her bag hits the tile with a loud_ thump, _making me cringe. I consider how this must look to her. I mean, I'm on the verge of tears myself and she has only seen me cry once or twice and that had been when we were five.

"Bonnie..." she manages, "what...?"

I can't answer—everything is pretty self-explanatory.

Unfortunately.


	6. Everybody Talks

**Disclaimer: Lyrics aren't mine... TVD isn't mine.**

* * *

**~Chapter Five~**

* * *

_Please speak softly, for they will hear us  
And they'll find out why we don't trust them  
Speak up dear, 'cause I cannot hear you  
I need to know why we don't trust them_

_~Paramore, Conspiracy~_

* * *

"Elena, slow down!" Caroline says, putting her cellphone closer to her ear. "I can't understand what you're saying!"

"Bonnie... is..."

She throws an apologetic look at Tyler and misses the end of her best friend's sentence.

_"What's going on?" _he mouths, a confused expression on his face.

The blonde-haired girl shrugs. She wishes she knew, because she hates it when Elena gets like this. Scared. Worried. She only acts crazy when something totally horrible happens, like when her mother went back to her grandparents house in South Carolina for two weeks.

Caroline holds a finger up, smooths her skirt out, stands up, and walks out of her bedroom. Part of her wonders how long this will take because she hasn't seen Tyler in awhile and she's looking forward to spending time with him, but that makes her feel guilty. She quickly reminds herself of her priorities, only allowing herself one more glance at her door.

"Now you can tell me what's wrong," she says.

At first, Caroline doesn't believe what she hears. It doesn't sound right. Things like this don't happen to people like her or her friends, let alone anyone in Mystic Falls.

She puts her phone on speaker, just to make sure she hears Elena's next words clearly. "Repeat that."

"Bonnie is pregnant."

Of course, Tyler picked that moment to check on her.

_"What?"_

* * *

"Elena, I'll call you back!"

Elena sighs when the line goes dead. She had hoped that Caroline would offer at least one word of wisdom, despite the fact that Bonnie is usually the one giving out sage advice. She also feels a little guilty for barging in on her like that. No wonder her best friend has been so distant lately.

But then she also feels mad.

She knows it doesn't make much—okay, _any_—sense, but she's still upset.

Bonnie should have told her the second she even suspected she was pregnant. Doesn't she know that Elena would do anything in her power to help?

Furthermore, _when_did this even happen? Elena tries to come up with a plausible time, but winds up with absolutely no answer. Sex in general just sounds like something Bonnie would shy away from completely. It's not something she talked about on a regular basis, nor did she add anything to the conversation when Care decided to bring the subject up.

Bon is quiet, but Elena had always thought that she would at least tell her friends when she finally did it.

_Maybe she would have explained it to you if you stayed, _a little voice in the back of her head says.

She can't argue with that.

The minute she realized what was going on, Elena bolted. She ran straight to the front door without thinking. She just knew that she didn't have to see the test results to know if Bonnie was pregnant or not. The answer had been written all over her face—heck, it was even in the way she _stood. _Joints locked and hand on her stomach. That, coupled with the hopeless expression on her face, had been too much for Elena to take.

So here she is, walking down the sidewalk, alone. She doesn't have her bag, which also means that she'll eventually have to turn around and go back to Bonnie's house to get it.

It's not something she's excited about doing. Elena doesn't know what she should say to her—sorry, she guesses, but she doesn't think she'll be able to. It's not that she doesn't want to; she's just overwhelmed. How does someone deal with this... their best friend being pregnant... how is _Bonnie _dealing with this?

Obviously not well.

She stares up at the sky. It is getting dark now and she figures if she has any intention of doing her homework tonight, she'd better call Bonnie and let her know she is coming back.

Elena takes her phone from her jacket pocket, planning to press one (since Bonnie is always the first she calls, her speed dial is programmed as such), but she ends up calling Stefan, hoping to find some comfort in the one person she loves the most.

* * *

Stefan is waiting for his older brother to make some witty quip about his forehead.

It doesn't come, though, which surprises him just a little. He had been giving Damon the death stare for at least thirty minutes now and he usually gets a painful insult for doing less than that.

"Do you even care that you made Elena uncomfortable?" he asks after a beat.

Damon's eyes flash. "It's called knocking. It's not my fault she doesn't know how to do it."

_This _Stefan expects.

He is aware of his brother's little crush on Elena, it's obvious by the way he looks at her. Like she walks on air. Damon is doing everything he can to seem indifferent when it comes to her, but it's not working. Stefan might have felt jealous if he didn't know how much his girlfriend cared about him, he definitely doesn't think he has to worry. He's just glad Damon's taste in women isn't limited to people like Rebekah.

At any rate, he automatically connects the edge in Damon's voice to the fact that Elena left the house close to tears.

Stefan doesn't blame her—he wouldn't want to see Damon having sex with Klaus' younger sister either.

"It's okay to care, bro."

"But I don't care, _bro." _he answers, voice dripping with acid.

Stefan shakes his head. "You're going to—"

He's interrupted by his cellphone ringing.

Elena's ringtone fills the entire room.

Damon raises an eyebrow. "Really? Man, you're more whipped than I thought you were."

He ignores him, answering the phone with more urgency than was probably necessary. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she says, and she doesn't sound fine at all.

"Elena," he says, "tell me what's wrong."

She takes a deep breath. "It's not me..."

"Then who is it? Who's hurt? Jeremy?"

"No..." she replies, voice shaking. "It's not Jeremy... it's Bonnie."

As soon as he hears this, Stefan feels a spike of worry. Bonnie is a good person, he hopes that she's not hurt badly or that maybe he could help her in some way. She must be in serious trouble for Elena to be this upset over her.

"What's wrong with Bonnie?"

He can't help but notice that Damon perks up at the sound of his supposed enemy's name.

Nope. He must have heard her wrong.

"Can you say that again, honey?"

"Bonnie. Is. Having. A. Baby." she enunciates every word, sounding annoyed.

"Bonnie's _pregnant?" _he can't keep the shock from his voice.

Elena's response is drowned in Damon's single exclamation. "Fuck!"

* * *

It seems like hours have passed when I'm finally able to move again.

I try to keep Elena's reaction out of my head as I get off the floor and collect the pregnancy tests from the various places they fell when I dropped them. One had been on the rug, another had gone by the door, and the third had slid between the toilet and the sink.

My attempts aren't good enough, though. The memory plays in slow-motion as each stick hits the bottom of the trashcan.

Elena opening the door. Seeing me. Running away as fast as she can. I think I may have called her back. If I did she probably didn't hear me—no, she had ignored me. That's when I lost it completely. I collapsed on the ground—reminiscent of my meltdown at school—and sobbed and sobbed until I ran out of tears. Jeremy had sat down next to me at some point and the rest is a blur.

Jeremy appraises me, a gentle expression on his face. "Feeling better?"

"Not really," I mutter, taking the First Response boxes in my hands. I tear each one into tiny pieces, hoping it will be enough to destroy the evidence.

"I understand," he tells me. He grabs the decorative underwater-themed tissue box from the counter and hands it to me.

I'm sure he gave it to me so I could blow my nose or something, but I rip the tissues from the box one by one and cover the test, making sure they're virtually invisible to anyone that comes into the bathroom.

"That should do it," I mean to sound chipper. Unfortunately, I think I sound more depressed than I did when I was crying.

"Bonnie..."

"Yeah?" I take a deep breath and look around the room. I think I've covered everything. It looks as neat and orderly as it did an hour ago. And only Jeremy and Elena know what's going on... well, unless I include the creepy yellow fish that are painted on the walls. Thankfully, I trust Jer with my life and Elena's good with not telling secrets—I'd worry about the decorations except I'm certain they can't talk, even despite the major creepy factor.

"I don't want to make you feel worse or anything, but you have to decide what you're gonna do..." he trails off again, looking at the ground.

And there it is.

I look at my stomach, which doesn't appear to be any different than it was two months ago. My brows knit together, I find it hard to believe that my body could have changed so much in such a short amount of time, but I couldn't deny that I definitely _felt_it. There had been something off about me ever since we got back from the beach and, if what I remember from Health is right, the timing would have been perfect for conception to happen.

"I- I don't know what I want to do..." I stammer.

Sympathy shines in Jeremy's eyes. "It's okay, Bonnie. You can figure it out."

I shake my head. "I can't... I can't do this."

"Do you..."

I know what he wants to say. _Do you want to get rid of it?_

"Want an abortion?" I finish for him. I'm surprised at how calmly I'm able to say it.

He nods.

"Maybe..." I answer bitterly. "It's an option, right? Probably the easiest." Except, if it were that easy, I'm sure everyone who has ever been in my position would have gotten one.

"If it's what you think you should do."

Is it?

I chew on one of my fingernails. I'd never really given much thought to the subject of abortion on a personal level. I listened to the statistics when the representatives from Planned Parenthood came to class, remember a few basic facts, but when it came time to form an opinion I was neutral. I didn't feel the need to choose a side—it had its pros and it had its cons. It had been as simple as that.

But then, I'd never thought I'd have to consider it either.

"How am I supposed to make that decision?" I ask, knowing he doesn't have an answer for me.

He's quiet for a moment. "You don't have to choose that, you know."

The other two alternatives smack me in the face. I picture myself in a hospital bed with a newborn in my arms before I can stop myself. I could either had him off to someone else—someone more capable—or he could stay with me. I'm stuck. My ruling on this matter will be permanent, I can't go back and undo it if I feel like I've made a mistake.

Somehow, that seems to be the scariest thing right now. That I have to be sure of myself. I haven't been sure of anything in a long time.

"... Bonnie?"

I don't answer. I'm torn between loving and hating the imaginary baby. I can't stand the idea of having everything I counted on be uprooted, but hating the infant seems equally as hard.

The air is suddenly too thick and I feel like the walls are going to cave in. I need to get out of the house. I turn to my best friend, a desperate look in my eyes.

"I need to go," I say. "I need to clear my head."

"That's alright."

"... Can you come with me?" I ask quietly. "I don't want to be alone." Not that I will... technically... I'm sharing my insides with Damon's demon spawn (which _can't _be anything like the baby I imagined).

"Sure." says Jeremy. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know," I say.

Probably Hell.

* * *

_I'm sosososo sorry it took this long to update and I also apologize for any errors in this chapter, I will fix them tomorrow—I just really wanted to post this. Updates for this story in particular should come more often now, as the personal issues I've had are less of a time-killer now. Thank you for your support and all the feedback (and patience) I've gotten. Please review!_


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